


Snug As A Bug In A...

by sister_wolf



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-09
Updated: 2003-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_wolf/pseuds/sister_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've never been rolled up inside of a large counterfeit Persian rug before, either, Ray, so perhaps the catalyst for this crazy situation, as you call it, is in fact, you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snug As A Bug In A...

**Author's Note:**

> co-written with Aly Malone

Ray Kowalski struggled, gritting his teeth against the burn of rope into his wrists. He ignored the way his body rubbed against Fraser's, the way they were wrapped in the Persian rug together, snug as bugs. He struggled harder; hating the way Fraser laid perfectly still, watching him with an arched eyebrow. Finally, Ray stilled, sighing. "This is all your fault, Fraser."

"I hardly see --"

" _Fraser!_ This is your fault, damn it! It's always your fault when we end up in some assu-- assin-- crazy situation! I was a cop for _years_ before I met you, and I never had this problem!"

"I've never been rolled up inside of a large counterfeit Persian rug before, either, Ray, so perhaps the catalyst for this crazy situation, as you call it, is in fact, you." Fraser knew he was being impolite, verging on snippy, but for heaven's sake, he was pressed against Ray from head to foot and Ray was _wriggling_. Surely he could be excused his ill temper when one considered the extreme provocation he was forced to endure.

"If you'd simply remain still and stop _squirming_ \--"

Out of spite, Ray started to struggle more. "Oh no! Don't blame this on me, Fraser. This is _not_ my fault. Just because you haven't been wrapped --" Ray groaned, closing his eyes as the burn on his wrists became more pronounced. "I'm probably bleeding now," he grumbled. He raised his head and looked down the rug, trying to see around the warehouse they had been ambushed in. "Dief! Dief! Where's Dief? Why didn't we bring him again, Fraser?" Ray gave Fraser a pointed look.

"You know very well the inevitable results of giving Diefenbaker a chili dog. I could hardly bring him along with us, knowing the eventual digestive disturbances he's no doubt experiencing right at this very moment." Fraser gave Ray a pointed look of his own. "If you _will_ insist in giving Diefenbaker junk food, you have no one to complain to but yourself when he's unavailable to rescue you. Now, if you'd kindly remain still, I believe I've ascertained the most expedient route to freedom."

Finally still, Ray just stared at Fraser with an odd look on his face before closing his eyes. He bit inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood, to keep himself from being turned on by the five dollar words. Normally, it wasn't a problem, but there was no way Fraser wouldn't notice the erection pushing against his thigh. "Fine. Just... fine. I'm still. Get us out of here, if you think you can."

Fraser wasn't sure what to make of the expression on Ray's face-- pained and tense, but with some other emotion underlying it. He took a deep breath and put it out of his mind. "Very well. I'm afraid this won't be comfortable for either one of us, but I believe that if you keep your head turned to one side I won't accidentally smother you. Yell if breathing becomes a problem."

Fraser began to inch himself out of the rug, twisting his body and squirming by increments past Ray. The effort unfortunately involved rubbing his entire body against Ray-- something that Fraser had thought about in rather different circumstances, but had never anticipated doing while rolled up inside an enormous Persian rug.

Ray barely held in the answering growl to having Fraser all but feel him up, balling his fists even tighter than they were before. He was unnaturally still, his head turned away from Fraser's body, his teeth biting through the skin on the other side of his mouth. _Think about baseball. Baseball. Hitting that homerun. Seeing Fraser's face and the pride the first time he watched the tape..._ He mentally groaned. That didn't help. Anytime Fraser showed any amount of pride in something Ray did, he wanted to things to the Mountie that partners just did not do to each other. _Curling. Curling. Think about curling. Jesus, curling sucks._

 _Think of the Queen. Think of the Queen. Think of the Queen._ Fraser resolutely tried to put out of his mind the rather stimulating way the fabric of Ray's jeans pulled against that of his jodhpurs. And the way that first his groin and then his thighs rubbed against Ray's-- _Oh my._ Fraser began to desperately recite the dullest sections of the Administration Manual in his head.

"Fraser." Ray's voice was low, strained, very much screaming _I want to be anywhere but right here._ "Can't you go just a little bit _faster_? They'll be back soon, those opium smugglers, and then I think that they'll probably kill us. Especially if they find you--" He winced when Fraser jerked slightly, his knee coming dangerously close to Ray's groin. "Hey! Watch where you put that knee, Fraser! Jesus! You want to neuter me while we're at this? Of course, that'd be the perfect way to end the day, you damaging me enough so I can't _ever_ have sex again..." He growled. _Shut up, shut up, Jesus, Ray, shut the hell up!_

Fraser most definitely did _not_ want to think about Ray and sex in the same sentence while his groin was in quite such close proximity to Ray's warm, wiry, graceful, desirable body... Except that he _was_ thinking about it, and even the Administration Manual wasn't managing to block out those thoughts. "Just-- be patient, Ray," he said, hoping the strain wasn't showing in his voice.

"Just... just hurry. I can't stay still much longer. Hell, this deserves a 'Stay still while stuck in a fake Persian rug' badge." Ray's leg started to shake, nervously, no matter how hard he tried to stop it. "You think they've got those, Frase? I mean, I guess we could make one, huh? Have a little stick figure wrapped up in a rug or something... I think it could work. I definitely deserve it. I do. I'm being still, Fraser. Well, except my leg. Are you almost..." Ray stopped mid-sentence, his entire body stilling. Fraser's crotch was right in front of his face. He licked his lips and started to lean forward, wanting to mouth the wool of his jodhpurs-- "Fraser! Kind of uncomfortable here!" Ray squeaked. "Go just a little faster, please!"

Fraser could feel puffs of warm air against his groin as Ray spoke. _Dear god._ His only hope was that he could get past Ray before his erection became noticeable. _It is the duty of all members who are peace officers, subject to the orders of the..._

Ray turned his face again, away from Fraser, his eyes closed and his body still. He was biting his bottom lip now, ignoring everything going on around him, focusing on his thoughts of curling. He couldn't do this much longer, he couldn't pretend it didn't matter, that being caught in a rug with Fraser wasn't the start of every one of his fantasies lately. Okay, maybe not _every_ one of his fantasies, but they always started in some weirdly bizarre way -- Ray chuckled softly. _Only Fraser. Only Fraser would get me caught in something wild like this._

 _Oh thank god._ The worst part was past. Now he simply had to get out of the rug without kneeing his partner in the face, free his hands, which were tied together behind his back, and get himself and Ray out of the warehouse before the opium smugglers returned. Simplicity itself, compared to managing to not spontaneously combust from rubbing his entire body against Ray. "My apologies in advance, Ray, if I knock you in the head with my knees or boots-- I'll try to be as careful as possible, naturally," he rambled nervously.

Ray nodded, forgetting that Fraser couldn't see him. "Yeah, yeah, Frase, that's fine. I know you won't kick me in the head on purpose. Just... just know that I'll kick you in the head back, when we're free." He closed his eyes, almost chewing through his bottom lip, finally relaxing slightly; glad that he wasn't running the risk of his partner feeling his erection anymore. "And the next time we get wrapped in a rug, I really _will_ kick you in the head, Fraser."

"Understood." Fraser stopped for a few moments to peek cautiously out the end of the rug. Seeing nothing alarming, he continued squirming his way out. The warehouse was deserted for the moment, but he was certain the opium smugglers would return soon. He needed to hurry, which was difficult, now that he'd effectively twisted his lower back into a pretzel with the effort of inching his way out of the rug. Fraser groaned and tried to straighten out his back, lying on the dirty, cold cement floor.

Ray's voice was soft as he tilted his head back, trying to look up at Fraser. "Hey, Frase. You all right? Your back hurt again?" He'd spent enough time with Fraser over the years to know that the Mountie had a lot more problems with his back than he let on. "We'll -- I mean, we can -- massage? I can give you one when we get back to my apartment, if you want..." He trailed off. It wasn't the first time he'd given Fraser a back massage, and every time it was harder to stop. "You'll get us out of here, I know you will. I know I'm giving you a hard time, I'm really-- I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Fraser felt a warm swell of love for his friend, his partner, his Ray, who could be moody and irritable but was truly one of the kindest, most loving people he had ever met. "No need to apologize, Ray. Your fretting helps reassure me that we'll escape whatever predicament we may find ourselves in." He firmly squashed down his more inappropriate physical responses to the idea of Ray giving him a massage.

Rolling to his feet with an effort, and a painful grunt, Fraser surveyed the area for something he could cut his bonds with. Fortunately, a nearby metal storage rack had a rough, sharp edge where part of a support had broken off. Fraser rubbed his bound wrists against it until the rope frayed and gave way. Shaking the pins and needles out of his arms, he returned to the rug and carefully unrolled it, freeing Ray.

Ray rolled over, laying on his back, his hands bound and uncomfortable between him and the concrete. "My -- what? My fretting? Fraser, first off, I was not fretting. Second, how does that reassure you that we'd get free? And third -- Frase. My _mom_ uses that word. Fretting." He chuckled, his eyes dancing, letting his partner know that he was joking. "Fretting." He struggled, a look of pain passing over his face. "I think -- yeah. Hands." He turned over, pressing his forehead against the rug. Fraser could see the rope burn on Ray's wrists from where he couldn't stop shifting.

"Well," Fraser tried to sound entirely serious, "I felt 'fretting' was less likely to be insulting than 'complaining.'" Smiling at the sound of Ray's somewhat incoherent protest to the word 'complaining,' Fraser knelt beside Ray and carefully untied the ropes around his wrists. Ray hissed in pain as the circulation returned to his arms, and Fraser rubbed his shoulders and upper arms for a few moments, shamefully indulging in this excuse to touch Ray's body.

"Oh thank you, Fraser." Ray pulled himself to his knees, rubbing his wrists. He leaned back against Fraser's large, warm hands, sighing in relief. "If you weren't here..." He shook his head. "Well, then again, if you weren't here, I wouldn't have ever gotten myself wrapped up in a rug." He closed his eyes for a long moment, then shook his shoulders, shrugging Fraser's hands away. "Come on, let's get out of here, call Welsh. I think we need to call it a day --" He looked up at Fraser critically, pulling himself to his feet. "I can see how much your back is bothering you, and we can't be good on the streets if we both aren't up to snuff."

"Not to mention that your wrists need to be seen to." Fraser straightened up with an effort, wincing. "We should remove ourselves from the vicinity before Mr. Baba or his accomplices return."

Escape from the warehouse was almost disappointingly easy-- apparently the self-styled "Ali Baba" hadn't expected his captives to free themselves from their rug prison quite so easily. Fraser tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but by the time they returned to where they'd left the GTO earlier that afternoon, his back had cramped up to the point that he was a little concerned that he'd be unable to bend himself enough to get back into the car.

Ray frowned, watching Fraser. "Forget about my wrists -- I know you've got some ointment made of mucus on you, I'll let you put that on me. We are getting you to my apartment and I'm going to give you a massage." He stood back for a minute, then winced. "Uh, do you-- you want to lay down in the backseat? Do you think that'd-- would that be better?" He reached out, tentatively, touching the small of Fraser's back.

Fraser gave him a small, grateful smile. "That won't be necessary. If you could just help brace me as I lower myself into the seat--" He lowered himself gingerly into the seat, holding onto Ray's outstretched hands for balance. "Thank you," he murmured, sinking back against the seat of the GTO with a sigh of relief.

Without even thinking about it, Ray reached out, brushing Fraser's hair away from his forehead. "I'm going to call Welsh. Dief, he'll be okay staying with Turnbull?" At Fraser's nod, Ray sighed with relief. "Good, I really don't want to waste the time going to pick him up." Ray shut Fraser's door, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket as he walked around the car. He called the station, quickly explaining to the Lieutenant what was going on. He slid into the driver's seat, nodding. "Thanks." He shut the phone and turned slightly to Fraser. "Okay. We've got the rest of the day off. My apartment?"

"That would be most agreeable, thank you." Fraser leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, remaining quiet and motionless for the rest of the short trip to Ray's apartment. He was aware, from the lack of running commentary on Ray's part, that he was worrying his partner, but at this point the effort to breathe steadily and keep his back from further locking up was taking all of his attention.

The sound of Ray's door closing roused Fraser from the light almost-doze he'd fallen into during the car ride. He opened his eyes and blinked a little as Ray opened the passenger side door.

"Come on, Frase," he murmured softly, helping his partner out of the car. He shut the passenger's door, wrapping his arm around Fraser's waist. "It's okay, Frase. You can lean against me." He smiled to himself when Fraser did, knowing that Fraser trusted him to allow Ray to see him like this. They were quiet as they headed up to Ray's apartment, moving slowly up the stairs because of Fraser's back.

Once inside, Ray shut the door and turned, reaching up to work through the buttons of Fraser's tunic. When Fraser moved to take it off himself, Ray slapped his hands away. "Let me," he said quietly, his eyes meeting Fraser's. "You always take care of me when I'm hurt, let me do this for you." At Fraser's nod, Ray ducked his head, his hands graceful as he worked the brass buttons open.

Once again Fraser was reminded of the universe's malicious sense of humor. This was the beginning point of a thousand late-night musings-- Ray, his hair even more attractively mussed than usual, standing before him and unbuttoning Fraser's tunic. He closed his eyes and firmly reminded his rebellious libido that Ray would _not_ , in reality, follow the unbuttoning of Fraser's tunic with the unbuttoning and unzipping of his jodhpurs, or, in fact, with anything in any way resembling fellatio. The universe was cruel.

"Thank you, Ray," he said quietly.

"No problem," Ray said, looking up at Fraser to flash him a beautiful smile. He led Fraser to his bedroom, stopping at the bed. He chuckled quietly. "I would apologize about the mess of my room, but you aren't surprised, so I won't." Fraser nodded, but didn't speak. Ray sighed, pulling Fraser's suspenders off his shoulders, then tugging his Henley off over his head. "Lay down." After Fraser settled on his stomach, Ray reached out, running his hand gently along Fraser's spine. "Would you like some tea? I can put some on and let the water come to boil while I start your massage...?"

"Tea would be... lovely," Fraser said gratefully. There was something immensely comforting in being fussed over, in being able to admit that he was in pain and needed help. There weren't a lot of people in his past who had been willing or able to take care of him-- generally, quite the opposite.

He stretched out on the bed, feeling the cramped muscles of his back start to relax already. The bed smelled of Ray, not in an unpleasant way at all. He could smell all the things that made Ray unique-- vanilla shampoo, cinnamon gum, coffee, leather, and the musky-spicy smell that was just _Ray_. He wanted to roll in the scent like Diefenbaker in a dumpster. _I am not going to become aroused from lying in his bed... I am not going to become aroused-- oh, no._ Fraser groaned, mortified, and hoped he wouldn't be asked to roll over anytime soon.

A moment later, Ray returned, humming to himself. He had a bottle of lotion in his hands, which he dropped on the bed next to Fraser. "I'm going to turn on some music, help relax you." He went to his stereo, flipping through the CDs, finding a classical CD he knew that Fraser liked. The strands of violins started the song, and Ray held his hands out, gracefully dancing toward the bed, turning a time or two with his invisible partner.

The lights were still off in the bedroom, and Ray took a moment to turn on the lamp next to the bed. "Okay, Benton-buddy. Let's get some of that tension out of your back." He took a deep breath and moved on the bed, straddling Fraser's thighs. Picking up the lotion, Ray started to rub it in on his skin, warming it for a moment. He leaned forward slightly, starting at Fraser's shoulders, working to unkink his back.

Fraser groaned again, but this time in pleasure and relief, as Ray's strong hands began to knead the tension out of his muscles. Ray seemed to know just the right amount of pressure to apply at just the right points, responding instantly to Fraser's various groans, moans, and (he hated to admit) whimpers. Part of him couldn't help but wonder how that responsiveness would translate into other, more sexual activities.

Ray was mostly quiet as he massaged Fraser's back, humming along to the swell of orchestral music that surrounded them. They were almost in another world, far removed from the crime that they encountered on the streets day in and day out. Long fingers worked tight muscles loose, and Ray couldn't help but be turned on by the sounds Fraser made. "Fraser--" Ray's voice was husky, low, the gravelly sound surprised even himself. He bit his tongue, holding back the rest of what he ached to say, _I want you._

"Yes?" Fraser responded, sounding fairly breathless himself. The feel of Ray's hands on him-- it was  
sweet torture to lie there and be unable to respond the way he burned to.

Ray leaned forward, his vision narrowing to the patch of pale skin at the nape of Fraser's neck. He licked his lips, wanting to kiss, lick, nip that spot-- and then the tea kettle's shrill shriek went off. "Shit!" He jerked away. "Forgot I put that on to boil. Hang on, I gotta get that before the whistle drives me nuts."

Fraser lay there as Ray jittered off to the kitchen, wondering what had almost happened in that moment. Ray's hands had stopped moving, and he'd felt as if-- as if Ray were leaning down over him. Yes, that was exactly it. He'd faintly felt the brush of Ray's breath against the nape of his neck. Ray had been leaning over and-- staring at his neck? Why?

Pondering that question, Fraser shifted restlessly, his arousal still burning, even worse since he'd felt the warm caress of Ray's breath on the back of his neck.

In the kitchen, Ray pulled the kettle off the stove, sighing as the whistle faded, the apartment going mostly silent again. He could hear the strands of the music in his bedroom -- _The bedroom where I almost licked my partner-- oh my god, Kowalski, what the hell are you getting yourself in to here?_ \-- and he could imagine Fraser laying perfectly still on his bed, waiting for his tea like a good guest.

With a long sigh, Ray made tea for Fraser, watching as dark tendrils seemed to bleed into the hot clear water from the tea bag. It was one of those ridiculously overpriced teas that Ray had noticed Fraser's gaze hover over the last time they'd ended up together in the aisles of the grocery store -- not something that happened often, but did on occasion -- and Ray, without thinking about it, had snuck it into his cart, never letting his partner know he'd bought it.

The cop wondered if Fraser would remember looking at the box of tea wistfully, if Fraser would really _get_ the fact that Ray spent six dollars on a box of twenty-four tea bags just for him. "Jesus," Ray said, dragging his fingers through his hair. "Should've bought him a box of candy hearts while you were at it, Kowalski. Don't think you could get more obvious than this."

He poured himself a cup of coffee, watching the mound of sugar he dumped in it dissolve. He stirred his coffee absentmindedly, trying to get his traitorous body under control. _Okay. Okay. Just go back in there, ask him how he is, give him his tea. That's it. Nothing else. No more almost licking. It's not like you're Fraser or anything._ With a deep breath, Ray squared his shoulders and carried the two mugs back into the bedroom. "Fraser, here. I have tea for you. I didn't put anything in it, but if you want something, I can go get it..."

"Thank you, Ray." Fraser lifted his head and contemplated the steaming mug of tea. Hitching himself up on his elbows, he accepted the mug gratefully, cradling it between his hands and taking a cautious sip. "Darjeeling. Delicious."

Ray shifted nervously, sitting on the edge of the bed, turned so he could see Fraser. He brought his leg up, resting his elbow on his knee. "I-- yeah. You were, I mean--" He trailed off. _I can't believe I want him to know this._ "Saw you, you know. Saw you eyeing it like Dief eyes my donuts in the morning. Thought I'd get it, for when you came over." Ray stared into his mug of coffee, his fingers wrapped tightly around the ceramic, welcoming the burning pain that seared his skin. It kept him from letting his mouth run wild, spilling all his secrets.

"You can make yourself comfortable, you know," Ray murmured quietly. "You don't have to lay there all stiff like you -- uh, like you don't really want to be in my bed." He laughed, almost nervously.

 _Ray, if you had any idea how much I desire to be in your bed, you'd be a lot more nervous than you are now._ "No, it's fine, really, I'm quite comfortable." _And quite unable to turn over and sit up without you noticing precisely how comfortable at least part of me feels in your bed._

He took another deep sip of the tea. "Thank you, for buying this for me. I mean, I'm grateful, it's very thoughtful of you to think of me, very kind--" _And now I'm blithering like an idiot._

"Oh, it was no problem. I know you never really go out of the way to get yourself things you _really_ want, so..." Ray shrugged, absentmindedly reaching out, running his hand along Fraser's back, his skin warm against the knobs of the Mountie's spine. "If your best friends can't take care of you, then who can, right? I know if there were something I really wanted, you'd give it to me. Well, within reason, I guess. There are some things I want that you can't give me."

"I'm sorry, Ray. It's not within my power to give the Cubs a winning season." Fraser tried to look serious, but his eyes crinkled a little at the edges. _What I really want is for you to keep absentmindedly caressing my back. Good lord, that feels wonderful. Please, continue._

Ray snorted, holding his cup as still as he could, even as the coffee almost spilled over the sides. "I could never ask you for that, Frase. Not all the Mounties in Canada could give that this year. Maybe you could do something for them next year though." He turned his head, grinning brightly, winking at his partner.

His hand continued to trail along Fraser's skin, stopping at the scar low on his spine, where Ray Vecchio had shot him. Ray opened his mouth to ask him about it, then stopped. He ran his fingers over it again, then moved away, sweeping back up Fraser's back. His voice was soft, husky when he finally spoke. "Is this-- bothering you? I can stop if it is, I just--" He trailed off, not really sure what he was going to say, how he'd explain the gentle touch on Fraser's back.

"It feels wonderful, Ray. It's relaxing the muscles in my lower back. Please, continue." Every word the truth, but implying that Fraser's reasons for wanting Ray to continue were therapeutic in nature.

Finished with drinking his tea, Fraser stretched a little to put it on the bedside table and then settled back down again with his head pillowed on his arms. The gentle stroking along his back was relaxing him, making him feel like his muscles were turning into warm honey. At the same time, the banked arousal that had never quite faded since that afternoon in the rug was flaring up, making lying on his stomach a little bit uncomfortable. But he'd endure discomfort gladly for the chance to feel Ray's hands on his naked skin.

Ray continued to stroke Fraser's back. He leaned forward to put his mug down, turning more toward Fraser, his fingers soft on Fraser's flesh. He hummed along to the music spilling from his stereo. He chewed his bottom lip, thoughtfully. Glancing up at Fraser made Ray think that he was asleep, so very gently, hoping not to wake his partner up, Ray dipped his fingers under the waistband of Fraser's jodhpurs.

"Fraser," Ray whispered softly. "There's just-- there's so much I want to tell you, so much that I can't." He trailed his fingertips along the Mountie's waist, to his side, sweeping them up gently, enjoying it even as guilt ate away at him for all but molesting Fraser while he slept.

Fraser had been on the edge of sleep, just about to slip over the border into the dreamland, when he heard Ray's quiet confession. He frowned, wondering why Ray would feel unable to tell him anything.

He turned his head to the side and looked back at Ray over his shoulder. "Ray." The blonde jerked nervously, snatching his hand away from Fraser's side. "Ray, you're my best friend. You can tell me anything."

Ray shifted away, running his fingers through his hair, hunching over, his back toward Fraser. "I-- I can't. I'd like to, but I can't, Fraser. It's not, it isn't anything personal. There's just things I can't--" Ray sighed, laying back on the bed next to Fraser, his arm thrown over his eyes. "I mean, you have secrets too, right, Fraser? I promise, it's not-- it doesn't have anything to do with you." _Except that I'm in love with you, that's all._

Worried, Fraser hitched himself up on his elbows and stared down at Ray. His partner was lying with his arm over his eyes, tension evident in the set of his mouth. "Is something amiss, Ray? If there's anything wrong, you can tell me."

Ray shook his head, frowning. "It's nothing."

"Well, clearly it's something," Fraser said, a little exasperated. Rolling onto his side, he laid his free hand on Ray's shoulder. "Whatever it is, tell me. A problem shared is a problem lessened." Ray shook his head stubbornly. Fraser sighed and gently tugged Ray's arm away from his eyes. Staring into his partner's eyes with a serious, sincere gaze, Fraser said quietly, "You're extremely dear to me, Ray. Please let me help you."

"Fraser, I don't think you understand. I can't-- there are things about me you just don't want to know."

"But I do--"

"No!" Ray got up from his bed, stalking across his bedroom. He pressed his forehead against his bureau, his back to Fraser. "I just can't tell you _everything_. I really, really wish I could, but having your friendship is much more important to me than losing you."

"Ray, really, I won't--"

"Oh!" Ray said, his voice a little higher pitched than normal. "Okay, so you really want to know that yes, I gave you a massage because I wanted you to feel better, but also because I _like_ to touch you? Because I have feelings for you that are much, much more than friends?" _Oh. Fuck._ Ray's eyes closed and he bit his bottom lip, his fingers curling into a fist. _I can't believe-- oh god._ He waited for the inevitable: for Fraser to make a polite graceful exit out of his life.

 _Oh._ Flabbergasted was a good description of how Fraser felt at that moment. How on earth had he missed this? He knew everything about Ray, or at least, he thought he had. Apparently Ray was better at hiding his emotions than Fraser had ever realized.

Fraser stared across the room at the hunched, tense, unhappy figure of his best friend and realized that it was up to him to make the next move. Ray had revealed himself verbally, once again showing greater bravery than he ever believed himself capable of, and now Fraser needed to reveal his own emotions.

He opened and closed his mouth several times, and yet, the words refused to come out. He couldn't say it. Couldn't speak.

Ray's shoulders were crumpling inward, his spiky head dropping forward. Fraser had to do something. It was intolerable that Ray should be hurt.

The few short steps across the room seemed to take an eon. Fraser stretched out his hand to Ray's slumped shoulder, then the other hand, to the other shoulder, and then he slid his arms around Ray and pulled him back into an embrace. Fraser pressed his face against the side of Ray's neck, trying to tell him with his body what he couldn't seem to say in words.

Ray closed his eyes tighter, leaning against Fraser. _So this is it,_ Ray thought, sadly. _He's going to hug me before he leaves._ He swallowed hard, reaching up to rub his hand along Fraser's arm, trying to ignore the heat of Fraser's chest searing through his thin black tee-shirt. "I'm-- I'm going to miss you," Ray said quietly. "I mean, we've been partners now for almost four years, Frase. I can't really-- I can't imagine what it's going to be like to not have you anymore. But. But you're right, it'll be better this way. You won't have to worry I'm going to do something stupid, like swoon over you or try to hit on you while we're supposed to be working or anything."

Reluctantly, Ray pulled out of Fraser's arms, stepping out of his personal space. "Um. Tell Diefenbaker I'll miss him, okay? Maybe-- maybe in a month or something, you can bring him by the station, let me tell him myself."

It would almost be funny, how badly they were communicating, if it weren't for the fact that Ray was _hurting_ and Fraser couldn't find the words to tell him. He took a deep breath and tried again. "No, you're misconstruing my actions, that's not what I--" _Blithering again._

Words weren't working, but actions, maybe, if he could get the actions right this time. Fraser reached out, gripped Ray's arm firmly, turned him around, cupped the back of his head with one hand, and kissed him.

 _Heaven._ Ray's mouth was hot and wet and, oh god, it was _Ray_ , he was kissing Ray, finally, finally. Fraser dived into Ray's mouth, learning him with tongue and lips, drowning in the taste of him.

Ray was frozen for a split second before melting into Fraser's embrace, his arms moving to wrap around his partner's body tightly. He opened his mouth, his tongue pressing past Fraser's lips, running along his teeth and tongue-- _That tongue, that tongue that's driven me crazy for four years, oh god._

He surged forward, pressing his body tighter against Fraser, his hips snapping hard against the Mountie's. He wanted Fraser to feel what he did to Ray, wanted Fraser to know what he was getting into, what can of worms he was about to open.

Fraser groaned, feeling Ray press against him, his erection pushing into Fraser's hip. He surged forward, pushing Ray back into the wall, blanketing Ray with his body, trying to touch everywhere at once.

Ray's tongue was driving him crazy, darting into Fraser's mouth, twisting slickly around Fraser's tongue. Fraser trapped Ray's tongue in his mouth and sucked on it hard. He growled low in his chest. God, he wanted to devour Ray.

Ray pulled back, panting, his eyes dark and filled with a wild passion Fraser had never seen before. "Fraser. Frase." Ray closed his eyes and tilted his head back as Fraser leaned in, nipping at his neck, tasting the salt of his skin. "Benton!" Ray's voice was sharp, cutting through the lust. He waited for Fraser's eyes to focus. "Ben," he said softly. "Let's-- the wall is uncomfortable. Let's go to the bed." He smiled faintly, leaning forward to run his tongue along Fraser's shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was gravelly, filled with lust, thicker than Fraser ever heard it. "I want to taste every inch of you."

Fraser moaned. Still kissing and nipping at Ray's mouth, he managed to get them turned around and slowly propelled Ray backward toward the bed until the mattress hit the back of his knees. They got stuck at that point for a few minutes, neither of them willing to break the kiss in order to get onto the bed. Finally, Fraser pushed a little too enthusiastically against him and Ray found himself overbalancing and falling backwards onto the mattress. "Sorry!" Fraser gasped. He straddled Ray's legs and crawled on top of him, resuming his self-appointed task of tasting every square centimeter of Ray's body.

Ray wiggled under Fraser, working himself out of his tee-shirt, baring his chest to his partner. He tilted his head back when Fraser dove for his neck, his laughter soft as he draped his leg over Fraser's hips. "Ben," he gasped quietly. He ran his fingers through Fraser's thick hair, smiling faintly at the softness of it. "Oh, god, I can't believe-- I swear, if I wake up and this is a dream, I'm going to kick somebody in the head." He gripped Fraser's hair in a tight fist and pulled up, staring into Fraser's dark, dark eyes. "I need you," Ray purred, smiling faintly as he watched Fraser run his tongue along his bottom lip. "I need you like-- like-- well, a lot."

Fraser shivered and closed his eyes briefly. "And I you." He dropped his head to the hollow of Ray's neck and inhaled deeply, tasting Ray's mingled scents of coffee and cinnamon and musk. Darting his tongue out, he found that the thin, hot skin there tasted just as sweet. Moving down slowly, he licked a trail from Ray's neck to the center of his sternum, and from there drifted to the side until he found a small, flat nipple. He gave it a few short, experimental licks, feeling Ray shiver and arch into the touch.

Ray groaned, his fingers flexing in Fraser's hair. "God, Ben--" His voice was soft, a sigh on the night air. His voice was husky, no laughter, though when he spoke, Fraser could tell he was amused. "Can't resist the taste, can you? Always have to stick your tongue out and lick-- Oh!" Fraser bit down on his nipple and Ray's eyes fluttered, his hips pressing up against Fraser's, his cock hard and heavy, pressing against him through the layers of their clothes. "Please." Ray didn't know what he was begging for, but he wanted it, wanted it all.

"The human tongue is an amazing organ," Fraser told him, licking his chest again to demonstrate. "Its density of nerves and the taste buds which cover its dorsal surface make it one of the most sensitive areas of the human body." He licked a trail down from Ray's nipple to the top of Ray's jeans as he spoke. "Really," he said, licking under the loose waistband of Ray's jeans, "the only organ of the human body with more nerve endings per square inch are the fingertips." He paused his lecture to bury his face in Ray's groin and mouth Ray's penis through the fabric of his jeans.

"It's -- I--" Ray's question about how the hell could Fraser give a lecture while in the middle of _this_ died on his tongue as Fraser mouthed his jeans. "Oh please--" He was almost sobbing now, his cock rock hard against the fly of his jeans. He kept one hand in Fraser's hair, needing to touch him, needing to know this was real, not a dream. His other hand went to the button of his jeans, fumbling, trying to open them. "Ben, need you, want -- god, I've wanted to feel your mouth on me forever and just -- thought I'd die the first time you licked something, and I imagined that tongue on my cock, please." He was begging, shameless, and he didn't care. Fraser had seen him at his best, and at his worst, and this wouldn't change his partner's perception of him.

Fraser sucked in a deep breath, moaning a little. He brushed Ray's hands aside and went to work on the buttons of his jeans, his breathing deepening and getting a bit ragged as he discovered that there was nothing under Ray's jeans but smooth, golden-furred skin. No underwear. The last button popped free and Fraser grabbed the loose fabric of the jeans and tugged them down off Ray's slim hips. Saliva flooded his mouth and he forgot all about continuing his impromptu lecture on the human tongue. Fraser lowered his head and licked Ray's penis from root to tip, then sucked in the tip and swirled his tongue around it, tasting Ray.

Ray writhed underneath him, his body arching, his hips pushing up, more of his cock sliding along Fraser's tongue. "Feel, god, feel good, Ben, so good--" He ran the heel of his foot along Fraser's back, needing to touch him. He wanted to be surrounded by Fraser, wanted to drink him in, to devour him. He closed his eyes tight, still expecting to wake up from a dream, to end up alone in his bed. "Love you, Ben, don't want this to ever end." It was more than the fact that Fraser had his mouth on him _finally_ \-- it was the intimacy of the moment, the natural next step in their partnership.

Fraser moaned around Ray's penis, taking it in deeper and deeper on every downstroke. He was drowning in Ray's scent, Ray's taste, the feel of smooth hot skin on his tongue, filling his mouth. God, he wanted this to last forever, this bliss, this connection, the overwhelming joy of knowing that _he_ was the reason for Ray's incoherent moans of pleasure. Ray's hands in his hair, gripping and flexing, the way that Ray's hips pushed up into him-- he wanted to freeze this moment in time, so that whatever happened afterward, he'd always have this moment of complete happiness to look back on. But already Ray's thrusts were increasing in speed, his testicles drawing close, his penis swelling even more, and then his orgasm hit and all Fraser could do was hold onto him and swallow.

Ray's fingers were tight in Fraser's hair, so tight it pulled at his scalp. His hips twitched with orgasm, his body shaking with desire. Fraser kept licking at Ray's cock, cleaning the remains of his orgasm away, and a strangled sound escaped from Ray's lips. "Sensitive," he gasped, shaking, on the line of pain and pleasure. Fraser nodded, moving up, and Ray pulled his head down to kiss him hard, his tongue searching through Fraser's mouth for any and all traces of his own taste, mingled with Fraser's. He finally pulled away, panting, his eyes dazed. "You can put any and everything you want in your mouth, Ben, as long as you don't stop doing that."

"Understood." Fraser settled on his side, his arm crooked under his head, watching Ray as he panted and shook in the aftermath of orgasm. Ray's cheeks were flushed, his narrow lips reddened and swollen from kissing. His unruly hair was even more wildly disarrayed than normal, and Fraser gently ran his fingers through it, coaxing it back into its normal spikes. He traced a finger over the Champion logo tattoo on Ray's bicep, feeling the slight difference in skin texture, wondering idly if it tasted any different.

Turning his head, Ray flashed an almost painfully bright, yet sated, smile at Fraser. "Never knew you felt this way," he murmured, reaching out, his hand trailing along Fraser's stomach. He leaned forward, swiping his tongue across Fraser's chest, groaning at the taste of his partner. "Taste good." His hand trailed down, fiddling with the button of Fraser's jodhpurs, closing his eyes, a smug smile of satisfaction crossing his face when they opened. His hand snaked in, curling around Fraser's cock, stroking the heated flesh. "Feel better than you taste," he purred, pressing his body to Fraser's, pressing against him.

"Oh god," Fraser murmured, his eyes snapping closed. His free arm curled around Ray's back and hung on for dear life as Ray pumped and squeezed his erection. He panted, moaning under his breath, feeling shockingly close to orgasm already. "Oh-- oh please," he moaned, biting his lower lip and pushing into Ray's hand.

Ray watched Fraser, the way the pleasure danced across his face. He wanted to continue to watch him, to see his face as orgasm watched over him, but even more, he wanted to kiss him, wanted to taste Fraser as he came. He leaned in, his lips teasing Fraser's gently, before ducking his head and kissing him hard, his wrist snapping hard as he stroked Fraser. He wanted-- no, _needed_ him to come. "Ben, come on," he murmured into Fraser's mouth.

"Ray--" With a strangled gasp, Fraser pushed forward into his hand and froze, shaking, as his orgasm pulsed out of him, splattering Ray's stomach and thighs.

He tucked his head into the crook of Ray's neck and tightened his arm around Ray's shoulders and held on, gasping, tears prickling at his eyes, as the aftershocks of orgasm shuddered through him.

Ray pulled his hand away, reaching back to wipe it off on the sheets, then curled his body around Fraser, as if he were protecting him from the world. He moved slowly, rocking the two of them, his hand stroking Fraser's back in a long, comforting stroke. He nuzzled Fraser's jaw, nipping gently at his ear. "You're so beautiful, Fraser, so incredible." He pressed closer, his tongue swiping along Fraser's skin, his eyes closed. "And you're staying here tonight, so don't even try to move." He settled against Fraser, quiet for a minute, before his eyes slid open, half lidded. "Oh -- oh Fraser-- I didn't hurt your back any more, did I?"

Fraser's eyes slid open. He looked a little embarrassed and a lot incredulous. "Err, why, no, I-- Forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"That my back hurt." The corners of Fraser's mouth twitched, the way they did when he was trying not to laugh. "It simply... didn't occur to me."

Ray's smile was smug. "I'm that good, aren't I?"

"That you are," Fraser murmured, reaching up to run his fingertips along Ray's jaw.

Ray turned his head slightly, blushing, caught off-guard by someone actually _agreeing_ with him. "Yeah, yeah well, you're better than good, Frase. So much better than good that I really am still going to be extremely pissed off if I wake up from a dream. And then I'm going to go to the Consulate and attack you."

The corners of Fraser's mouth twitched again. "Well, then, I most sincerely hope this is not a dream, since I'd be rather shocked to be awakened from a sound sleep by an amorous detective." Sobering, he trailed his fingers over the soft, short hair at the nape of Ray's neck. His eyes very serious, he said, "Not a dream, Ray. Real. And I hope--" he broke off, looking away, licking his lower lip nervously.

"Yes," Ray breathed with a sigh, trailing his fingers along Fraser's side. "I mean--" He looked up, his eyes meeting Fraser's shyly. "If you want, I mean. Because I do, I want-- I want everything, Fraser. All of you, from your head and your big words to your body to your heart. I don't-- You know me, Frase, better than anyone. I'm not a half-assed cop and I don't love half-assed. The only two important things to me in the world."

Fraser leaned forward and kissed him, very gently. "I know you. And I... I respect you a great deal, and have over the course of our partnership come to have very... serious feelings for you, more than simply friendship and respect, though certainly I don't wish to diminish the importance of those emotions, and they are, of course, an excellent basis for any more intimate feelings that may have developed over the course of our--" He stopped abruptly, took a deep breath, and said, "I'm blithering again. What I meant to say is, I love you."

Ray's smile, if possible, was brighter than before. "That's gotta be the three-- okay, maybe three-hundred-- sweetest words you've ever spoken, Ben."

And they lived happily ever after.


End file.
